Israel has forgotten his Maker, and built palaces;
and Judah has multiplied fortresses;
but I will send a fire upon his cities,
and it shall devour his strongholds.26
This pronouncement from Hosea encapsulated three particular aspects of grave concern: forgetfulness of the creator; extravagance by rulers; the multiplication of its military prowess. In this case, forgetfulness of God is directly connected to the confidence of the military protection and a lifestyle of opulence and extravagance. Yet, such confidence is self-indulgence and military fortresses will not withstand the divine inferno that will destroy the strongholds. That is the result of forgetfulness. It allows the people, in this case the leaders and the powerful, to find a new center. Here, tellingly the two foci are opulence and fortification of the military. But there is an even more devastating consequence of the people’s forgetfulness, and that is, God will in turn forget them. This in effect places the relationship on very thin ice.27 Moreover what the people of Israel were told, and the essential message for contemporary society and religious institutions, remains for the most part the same, namely, perish. Given the nature of our society and its unbridled preoccupation with commodity and more commodity, and the dramatic expanse of the divide between wealthy and poor, it would be easy perhaps to dismiss such a pronouncement as unfounded or explain it away as archaic and no longer applicable. But this kind of dismissal also reflects what society has come to believe, namely that might, particularly military and imperial might, might hint that such pronouncements do not apply or affect. The act of not forgetting or remembering is neither abstract nor theoretical; it must be active. One’s life must be a testimony to remembering the one or those to whom one belongs and what that means. “Memory of the painful past corrects an amnesia of both divine and human identity . . . Memory and shame: taking responsibility for past actions and acknowledging our failures—Ezekiel affirms repeatedly that this kind of self knowledge is necessary if a future of hope is to open before us.”28 The importance of memory not only significantly ensures that the past injustices are not repeated, but even moreso not to remember is not to live. How can one really live without a memory, without being attentive to what has gone before, and how might one be shaped in light of this? There is an existential issue to be reckoned with here, namely our capacity for self-reflection and self-critique. This surely is one of the most difficult undertakings if for no other reason than it poses the real possibility that we might discover within us that which must be changed, altered, transformed. So today, as it was in ancient Israel, many simply choose not to reflect and in so doing make a decision that the path on which they travel is one that will never be changed. Perhaps there is fear in facing who we are, and yet we must wonder about the cost of no self-reflection.
Without self-reflection, how might we possibly have a sense of what our sins are, our errors, the pain which we might have wrought, and indeed the joy that we might have been the subject of? In other words, self-reflection and self-critique are not simply an afterthought, a luxury, but a necessity. But there is also the matter of being ashamed of what we have done in the past, call it sin or some other term, and the capacity to face the past and to acknowledge our actions and seek repentance, repair and restoration. Self-assessment and reflection are certainly very difficult and many have made the choice to avoid them, perhaps with the hope that the challenges might disappear. Of course whatever challenges there might be do not simply disappear. In the United States in general we are very reluctant to have any kind of collective national self-critique and as a consequence, whatever it is that confronts us it is very difficult to take particular responsibility for what occurred. Memory was also significant for the ancient Israelites. They must remember YHWH and the history of redemption and salvation, given that forgetting or neglecting inevitably leads to acts of injustice. Moreover, one must remember both in times of suffering and in times of prosperity. In the case of punishment and suffering, when painful and persistent questions about belonging and abandonment abound, divine absence, divine silence, and fear all are woven together, it was important to remember the times when they were given assurance and hope in the midst of despair; judgment and punishment are not the last word. Such memory cannot be confused with reminiscence as good as the latter might be under the right circumstances, but an active sense of remembering. Indeed extravagance generated by injustices and lavish lifestyles are no more the last word than is suffering. “Memory alone would not have been enough on which to base hope for exiles. As an end in itself it becomes a preoccupation with the past . . . Memory served to enable discernment of God’s new thing for Israel’s future. That future was to be no mere repeat of the past. Even when the prophets use a familiar image for them from the tradition it was often transformed in keeping with trust that God was doing a ‘new thing.’”29
See, the former things have now come to pass,
and new things I now declare;
before they spring forth,
I tell you of them.
Sing to the LORD a new song,
his praise from the end of the earth!30
“The people’s failure to know themselves is revealed especially whenever Ezekiel refers to the benefits of shame, yes, the benefits of feeling ashamed. For Ezekiel, shame is a profound gift, and an essential element of self-knowledge . . . Remembering our sins is a crucial part of self-knowledge . . . and remembering the past is always accompanied by an appropriate sense of shame, spurred by the recollection of our past actions.”31 There is certainly something of a difference between being “shamed” by someone and having a sense of shame. The point is not being forced into shame, but to come to that moment for the right reasons. Within the context of the Hebrew prophets, one notes Jeremiah’s pronouncement.
They acted shamefully, they committed abominations;
yet they were not ashamed,
they did not know how to blush.
Therefore they fall among those who fall;
at the time I push them, they will be overthrown, says the LORD.32
That is to say, shame has to do most fundamentally with an acknowledgement of actions gone before. Indeed an essential component of shame is confessional in nature. It is an acknowledgment that what has happened by way of injustices, oppression or atrocities must not happen again. Not to be ashamed of these acts on behalf of those who have gone before us, and in whose footsteps we travel, is not only to show a wanton disregard for the pain and suffering, but to give the impression that a lack of shame is an indication that it is likely to occur again. To be sure, there is nothing simple or easy about being ashamed; indeed it is particularly difficult if the shame must be on behalf of our ancestors. Yet, the alternative is even more painful and destructive. Thus, not to feel shame for slavery, or indentured servanthood or genocide is to live with a belief that whatever the form of injustice, we cannot be responsible for the actions or perhaps even the belief. This invariably may lead to the conclusion that whatever the actions were, they must have been justified, or of no import. To hold in tension the positive regard that we have for our ancestors and the counter intuitive reality that their actions might have been destructive is difficult. The challenge is not simply to know intellectually or logically that what transpired was unjust and oppressive, but to be able to engage the heart as well. While we may have deep affection for our ancestors, the test of our sense of justice is to have the will to be engaged with our moral agency even when we must face ourselves in the persons of our ancestors. “Prophetic calls to shame in the context